


Duels and Tiebreakers

by 11_Gadget_27



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Humor, Smut, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-16 23:05:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1365052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/11_Gadget_27/pseuds/11_Gadget_27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another Mass Effect Kinkmeme prompt:</p><p>"I just realized we don't have a story focusing on Garrus' "encounter" with the Recon Scout. I mean, seriously? Someone really needs to fix that.</p><p>Bonus Points:<br/>- RS has been trying to seduce Garrus for ages, and he's never taken the hint; the UST is the reason they were "at each other's throats"<br/>- RS isn't the only one trying to fuck Garrus. Everyone but him is aware of this.<br/>- The crew is making bets about Garrus' sexuality."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duels and Tiebreakers

**Author's Note:**

> If you've read Almost Doesn't Count, you'll see somebody you recognize. Honestly, I fell in love with him and had to use him again.
> 
> And see? I can write something other than slash.

 

It began as just a bit of gratitude. She had been pinned down, shielded only by the frame of the door she was hacking with an open hall to her back and no way to retreat. Not that bailing was an option; no self-respecting turian would retreat and leave their unit behind to save themself. When the door finally opened she popped out from cover, but her pistol was only half raised when she found herself chest-to-chest with the batarian pirate she had been looking for. Quinn Vetus had enough time to realize _fuck I’m dead_ when the pirate’s head burst open in a shower of blood, bone and gore. She fell back half in shock and half knowing standing unprotected in the middle of a firefight was fucking stupid. Then his voice came over the team’s comm with smug subtones.

_“Scratch one.”_

They only had one sniper that self-assured but considering she was still alive, Quinn could admit it was well deserved. Later when she’d thanked him, Garrus had just shrugged and said “Well, I can’t let our best scout and hacker get killed so don’t make a habit of it” and then gone on his way. After that she began to actually look at him, to really see him. And not as just another body occupying the PFS Havincaw.

She was torn between admiration for his skills and a deep frustration with his attitude. Garrus was a good soldier, an excellent shot with a rifle, loyal to a fault and she’d never seen anyone move faster on the mats, but he had one unforgivable character flaw for a turian. He constantly questioned orders and not just the orders themselves but the way in which they were carried out. If their unit leader, Serranus, wanted them to approach the mission goal in small teams from front and back, then Garrus would ask why not attack from every side with _smaller_ teams. And often times it was vice versa of a similar situation.

Quinn had often wondered if he argued for the sake of it or if it was a type of compulsion that he couldn’t shake. Turians were taught from a young age to always follow orders from their superiors, even when they didn’t make sense. To question those commands…it was almost taboo. But Garrus did. Frankly it was a wonder he hadn’t been kicked off the Havincaw and demoted to guard duty on some backwater colony. Just because he wore Cipritine’s colors didn’t mean he was above reproach.

In the half year Garrus had been stationed on the frigate Quinn had seen him get any number of punishments for his cavalier attitude: from working in the mess hall to collecting the laundry bins all the way to cleaning the bathrooms, he’d been put through it all and he still acted the same. Their unit leader had even taken him to the mats to try and knock some semblance of respect into him; it was the fight that had earned him the position of third top ranked hand-to-hand fighter. Serranus had barely held onto to his spot as number one. Quinn wondered, as the seconded highest ranked fighter, just what would happen if she challenged him to a fight.

But whenever she thought about throwing down with Garrus on the mats, her mind blanked on fighting techniques and showed her things that were... a lot more fun instead. Like bedding him. Spirits but he was a distracting man and she wasn’t the only one that thought so. With his blood blue markings, gunmetal plating and sandy hide he stuck out among the ship's regular population of medium brown to midnight black and the red, orange, green, and yellow tattoos of the outer-worlds. It was odd for one from the homeworld to be stationed on an outer colony frigate, but he certainly didn't act like the typical uptight homeworlder.

So yes, he stuck out, but in a good way. In a way that had recently begun to take over most of Quinn’s thoughts. She was interested him, more than interested. And that was what had led her to her current settings in the mess hall asking her friends- the ones that listened to all the scuttlebutt- if anyone knew whether or not he was seeing anyone or if he took part in the common casual affairs.

No one had an answer for her.

“Maybe he’s not into girls…?” Varro said past the food in his mouth. Time in the mess hall was scarce for their unit so manners were often forgotten.

Quinn wasn’t very hungry, picking idly at her food as her few friends attempted to answer her questions about the sniper from the infiltration unit. She knew she needed to eat, Spirits only knew when they’d get as good fare as they had this time. It would be back to rations in a few days, she was sure.

“What a shame that would be,” She muttered in reply, harmonics toned purposefully down to hide just how she felt about that.

Across the table the table, Mavic barked a short laugh. “Not for me. I’ve been trying to get into Garrus’ armour for weeks.”

She flicked a piece of food at him. “He’s not interested in douchebags like you.”

He twitched a mandible with Carthaan’s orange horizontal lines at her in a grin as he ate the bit she’d slung at him. “That seriously hurt my feelings.”

“Uhuh.” Her subvocals told him that she didn’t believe that for a second.

“Maybe he likes the Azure,” Crassus posed, looking up from his omnitool and the letter to his family he’d been working on infrequently for the last few days. “The last time we had leave on the Citadel I saw him and Nexin eyeing the dancers at Chora’s Den.”

Quinn snorted. “Please, everyone _eyes_ the strippers. Spirits, even I eye the strippers.”

The large man shrugged. “Whatever,” He dismissed, looking between her and her mostly untouched food. “If you’re not gonna eat that, can I have it?”

She shoved her tray to him and he immediately dug in; she’d probably regret the lack of a meal later. Serranus was a bitter but patient man when it came to training those under him to be their best, so of course that meant he drove them into the ground during all their exercises. Like the one that was scheduled after supper was going to be, word was he wanted to test them in three-person teams against one of the other units on the Havincaw. To make matters worse, none of them would know their teammate until the exercise began.

“I’m telling you guys,” Kallias, the only other woman in their unit other than herself, said as she stacked everyone’s trash on a single tray. “The only woman he’s interested in is his rifle.” She winked at Quinn. “And just to be clear, I don’t mean the one between his legs.”

Varro choked on his food as the rest of their table burst into a round of voracious laughter.

“It’s funny how you all thinking I’m joking,” Kallias went on. “We’ve all seen how he handles that thing, I swear he fucking talks to it too.”

It was then that each of their omnitools gave a sharp ping to signal the end of the short dinner period. Quinn helped her gather the rest of the garbage and then they both headed off to the training area.

+_-_-_-_-_+   
It would have been a simple game of capture the flag had Serranus not gotten creative with the combat sim and dropped them into a sprawling urban area with what looked like human architecture. He’d also hidden an unknown number of fake “flags” along with the six that were real. They wouldn’t know which were which until they had them in hand; the fake ones would give a mild electric shock. Since Serranus couldn’t blow them up, as Quinn was sure he wanted to do from time to time, she was certain his definition of mild was vastly different from theirs.

Garrus had recommended waiting until a few of the flags had been located; he wanted an idea of how bad the electrocution of a fake would be before he sent them in to grab their payoff. Quinn agreed. There was no sense in running into a situation without all the intel. Then he suggested they could ambush a team that had already found a flag: Mavic liked the idea, she did not. It was against the rules of the game and she told Garrus as much. He countered by telling her there were no rules _out there_. She hated that he was right, hated that they’d all be punished if it came to that because they weren’t _out there_ and Serranus did not like that kind of dishonesty. She hated that she wanted him all the more for it.

“So…what are you doing after this?” Quinn asked flirtatiously and she _felt_ Mavic wince from where he was crouched to the other side of their final teammate and current squad leader.

Garrus didn’t even lift his head, still looking through his scope, trying to get eyes on one of the other teams.

“I’ve been assigned to the main battery.” The sniper muttered out the side of his mouth, completely missing her tones.

“Not that anyone asked,” Mavic quipped, his subvocals positively filthy. “But I plan to be in my bunk after this, enjoying some alone time that’s not _alone_.”

It was directed at both of them and she had to resist the urge to punch the older man in the jaw. It could wait until he was on an opposing team, hopefully during the next exercise. Quinn heard Garrus sigh but still didn’t look at either of them.

“I’d appreciate it if the both of you would focus.” He said, his voice full of reprimand and damn if that tone wasn’t sexy coming out of his mouth. “I’d prefer not to get shot. Even if it’s not live ammo.”

“That’s something I can get behind.” Mavic winked at her, letting his eyes go between her and Garrus pointedly. He twitched his mandible at her playfully.

“Seriously?” Quinn deadpanned. He’d always been a shameless flirt but spirits, he really did get worse every day. “You’re asking for a thre-“

“Focus!” Garrus snapped and they both responded instinctually to the order. “Thank you. I can see Nexin’s team, their pointman has got her hands on- oh wow.”

“What is it?” Mavic asked, inching closer as if to look through Garrus’ scope.

“Suffice to say…we don’t want to grab a fake package.”

Quinn got to her knees beside him and looked through her own scope down the field. She could see Nexin pulling one of his teammates back to her feet and the sparks that jumped and arced over her, locking up her armour. That was not a current meant to stun but to incapacitate.

“Serranus is a total bastard.” She stated without malice.

“That bad?”

Garrus hummed and finally pulled his head back from his rifle. “Alright then. We’re going to watch and wait for another team to nab a flag. Virim I want you to run some inference, leave a few pressure sensitive traps along the south side of the field. I don’t want anyone hurt, just netted or delayed. Try to only focus on teams that have actually gotten one of the flags, we want to eliminate the chances of getting a fake one as much as possible.”

“Understood.”

“Vetus I need you cloaked, moving ahead of him and keeping his path as clear as you can. If you come across one of the other teams with the package, hack their omnitools into showing one of Virim’s traps as their rally point. Failing that, lead them in a large loop away from us.”

“Consider it done.”

Garrus nodded. “I’ll follow at a distance and keep our six clean. Minimum chatter on the comms. _No_ casualties if you can prevent it. Now go.”

+_-_-_-_-_+   
“I have to say Vakarian, I’m impressed.”

 _Well,_ Garrus thought, one mandible twitching with surprise. _That’s a new approach to handing out a reprimand. Usually he just yells._

To either side of him, his two temporary squad mates tried not to fidget. An effort that failed as Virim shifted his feet and Vetus aimed her eyes at everywhere but their unit leader standing in front of them. Serranus’ little team building exercise had ended in his favor. With Virim setting traps and Vetus herding the other teams to those traps, it hadn’t taken long to net a squad carrying an authentic flag. It was made so much easier by the fact that none of the other teams had tried the ambush tactic they had. Garrus had had an actual stun grenade (which was a lot safer than Serranus’ concept) he’d used to temporarily incapacitate one of their captured teams. After that, getting a flag and making their way to the drop-off point had been a snap. But then Serranus had cornered them as they were leaving the sim chamber and demanded that they meet him in his office. Garrus had had no illusions about what the man wanted to say to him.

_Let’s see… “Vakarian I’m impressed with how badly you’ve fucked up this time.” No, Serranus doesn’t curse. At least I’ve never heard him and he yells at me the most. “I’m impressed at your ability to sway good turians from acting within the bounds of their authority”? Closer but still not quite right._

“You’ve certainly exceeded my best expectations this time.” Serranus went on with terrifyingly pleased harmonics.

 _That’s really not a good sign._ “…Sir?”

The old turian flicked his mandibles out in what Garrus assumed was a grin but he’d never seen that expression on his face before. Judging from how Vetus and Virim looked at him in complete confusion, neither had they. _And that’s saying something,_ He thought. _Pretty sure Vetus is his favorite._

“Out of the fifty years I’ve acted as overseer to the training on this ship, I have seen a total of five individuals that accomplished what you did today. Do you know what became of those five, Vakarian?”

Serranus’ tones were still in the positive registers and it made Garrus severely uncomfortable. They’d never seen eye to eye, in fact the old man had never spoken to him with anything less than open hostility and to hear him be cordial was truthfully disconcerting. It didn’t bode well for whatever punishment Garrus knew he’d receive this time; Serranus had certainly proven that he could be creative.

 _I should look up what the weather’s like on Invictus this time of year…_ “No sir.”

“Four of them went into the Blackwatch. One became a Spectre. I’d imagine you’ve given that type of career some thought.”

Garrus’ mandibles flopped away from his jaw as elation made his brain short-circuit. “Of course sir.” He said with no lack of excitement flooding his harmonics and making his voice a little too high. What turian didn’t dream of joining the most elite of turian soldiers or the Spectres?

Serranus nodded as if he’d fully expected that answer. “Vetus, you’ve got family in the Blackwatch don’t you?”

“Yes sir. My mom and second oldest brother.”

He hummed. “Virim?”

“No sir, I’m perfectly happy with my hands wrapped around someone’s weapon and making it sing.” He teased with slanted mandibles. “Gunsmithing runs in my blood, I think I’ll stick with that.”

The old turian’s eyes narrowed and Garrus knew he’d lost that little amount of amicability he’d had. “Indeed.” He said. “I see no reason to reprimand any of you... I’m assigning you to be a permanent team.”

“To the same squad, sir?” Vetus asked quietly.

“Yes.” Serranus said simply and began to outline just what that would mean in excruciating detail. Then he left them standing there with orders to figure out their own arrangements.

“So,” Virim began and Garrus could already tell things were about to get awkward. Or really, really uncomfortable. To say that the Carthaan born turian was lewd and vulgar even when he was being polite was a vast understatement; Virim could be absolutely depraved. “Guess this means we’ll be spending a lot more time together.”

_I’d heard Virim was a constant flirt, but he really has no sense of time and place, does he? It’s like he doesn’t care who he flirts with or what reactions he gets. And I can’t help but wonder how many times he’s been punched in the face…_

Vetus cocked her hip, putting her weight on one foot and Garrus couldn’t stop from checking out her waist. He immediately stopped once he realized it- he did _not_ want her to catch him doing that. It wasn’t the first time he’d checked her out. Vetus was beautiful with her deep brown plating and skin, dark, _dark_ blue eyes and the slim but curvy red markings of Taetrus along her mandibles and above her browplate. She didn’t look anything like the women he’d grown up around and he liked that.

“I’d really like to know how you can make everything you say an innuendo.” Vetus teased and he was momentarily caught up in the soft tones of her voice.

“It’s a special gift.” Virim looked away from her to run his eyes briefly over Garrus. “One of many, if you’d care to find out.”

She snorted and turned her back on him. “Not if you were the last turian among the stars, Mavic.”

“Mmmm. You’d just find yourself an asari to love on, wouldn’t you?” Virim challenged but he was smiling. “I mean, you yourself said they were pleasant to look at and we all know xenophilia starts by watching the strippers.”

“And _you’d_ know all about xenophilia, wouldn’t you?”

As the two of them went on Garrus kept his mouth firmly shut. He didn't have anything to add to the topic, not being a xenophile himself and definitely not having the extensive experience everyone knew Virim had when it came to sex. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to talk to either of them, he did, just not in a casual setting. Certainly not with the same grace and easy confidence that Vetus had. He was too awkward and always had been. Of course the fact that he was crushing on her didn’t help, but Vetus was so far out his league that she may have well been on another ship altogether. Garrus didn’t see the point in torturing himself by hanging around.

“So Garrus,” Vetus laid her hand on his arm to prevent him from leaving but he shook her off gently. “I’ve got some free time if you’d like to keep me…company.”

She was always putting him in the awkward position of being hit on when he was barely able to open his mouth without sounding like a fool, especially if he didn’t have a gun in his hands. It was always a meaningless flirtation, it was just the way she talked to people, like Virim did…. Because a straight-laced girl like her could never like a rebellious and quarrelsome turian like him. Garrus was frankly tired of looking and feeling stupid every time he tried to talk to her. He ought to find a productive way to spend his time, rather than worrying what Vetus thought about him.

“I’ve got to report for my shift.” He told them with harmonics that were purposefully oblique. “We’ll all talk about the squad’s new assignments tomorrow.”

“Oh. Ok, see you later then, I guess.” She did sound genuinely disappointed but it was probably just his imagination.

“Later Garrus.”

He didn’t answer either of them, just turned and walked out with his head high. He wasn’t going to let a pretty girl get under his plates any more than she already had. His dad already had enough reasons to be disappointed in him.

+_-_-_-_-_+   
Once Garrus was gone, Mavic burst into uproarious laughter than left him bent over his knees and trying to catch his breath. “Woo!” He chuckled. “I really thought it was an act but he’s totally clueless. I hate to say it but, well, that Quinny was a fail.”

“Don’t call me ‘Quinny’ you asshat.”

“Then don’t call me an ‘asshat’.” He twitched a grin; the best thing about Mavic was that he never got offended no matter what anyone said to him. Something she’d never been able to accomplish, not with her temper. “For the record, I am including myself in this fail.”

Quinn sighed. “Well at least I’m not the only loser in this room.”

Mavic nudged her with his shoulder. “Are you trying to make me cry, seriously? My dear Quinn you’re not a loser, there are any number of individuals on this boat that would jump at a chance to be with you – and once again I am including myself- Garrus is just…well he’s clearly oblivious so just try showing him you’re interested in another way.”

She’d never realized just how insightful he could be outside the armory. When he stopped thinking with his cock and letting his hormones rule him, Mavic was actually a pretty decent guy. He even sort of reminded her of her third oddest brother, an adventurer that often had their folks worried sick. “Thanks Mavic, that’s _so_ helpful,” She muttered with playful harmonics.

“You’re welcome.” He said. “And I’d advise against my approach of saying you want to fuck him outright. “

“Because that has always worked so well for you.”

“Actually…” Mavic ran a hand over his fringe, laughing under his breath. “But in all honesty I think Garrus might be a bit uptight for something so blunt. You know how homeworld turians are; always so proper and correct it’s nauseating.”

Quinn didn’t see the point in mentioning that Garrus was far from the usual homeworld turian. As he’d proven during their exercise and multiple times in the past and every time he opened his mouth. Nevertheless, Mavic was right. She’d had to try a new technique to get Garrus’ attention. Now that they were part of the same squad there would be plenty of opportunities.

+_-_-_-_-_+

“You can’t do that!”

“I can _and_ I’m going to.”

“I’m all for killing pirates Garrus, but that is irresponsible. You can’t just chuck a grenade into their base and hope that the stuff we’re supposed to retrieve doesn’t get exploded too!”

“They wouldn’t have left the prisoners in the front room, that’s just dumb. Chucking in a _stun_ grenade, for the record, isn’t going to damage anything. And, even if the prisoners are there they’d be stunned too, therefore no panicked civilians running through the crossfire.”

 _Even I know that’s irresponsible,_ Mavic mused. _And I’m the king of bad decisions._

“How can you possibly know that?”

“Because I’m not an unimaginative Hierarchy brat like you.”

“I’m not even from Hierarchy space!”

“Doesn’t matter! You’re obviously not a free-thinker!”

“Maybe not but at least I’m not a-“

“GUYS!” Mavic snapped over the comms. “Please can we do this later? Y’know before they pack their shit and leave? Yeah? Thanks.”

He didn’t know what the hell Serranus had thought would happen when he’d paired the three of them together. Garrus and Quinn were both hugely opinionated, neither willing to back down or submit in the slightest. In any other situation, those were good characteristics, but not when they needed to cooperate with one another. Maybe the old man had hoped for three talented people that could work alongside each other; too bad two of them could barely talk to each other without slinging insults back and forth.

First it had been about sniping techniques, then the rifles themselves, then battlefield strategy, and lately they'd started badmouthing each other’s home planets. He figured the “you’re mom’s a rank-less varren” stuff would come next since the insults were getting personal. Usually Mavic was a passive viewer to their tiffs, tuning most of it out and keeping his mind on his own thing like his guns or the prototypes he’d been working on. He only got involved if absolutely necessary and then as little as possible until he had them back on track. Griping was one thing, but the situation had degraded to the point where proper teamwork was nearly impossible.

Mavic was better acquainted with Quinn as he’d known her the longest, but he liked to think of Garrus as a friend too and he didn’t like it when his friends didn’t get along. He understood; sometimes people liked each other at first and then after a while they didn’t. If the two wanted to tear each other’s throats out, fine, but surely they could do it at a better time.

Like when they weren’t planetside on a cliff overlooking the base of some nasty batarian pirates trying to gather intel for their captain before storming the base. And when he said nasty, he didn’t mean it in the literal sense, well he did but not completely. Slavery was not cool and it was even less cool when the slaves were the children of raided colony worlds from the edge of the Terminus. The Havincaw had been sent to assess and decide on a course of action. It was his squad (with Garrus as the lead) and another three-man team several clicks away that would pool together everything they could find out about these pirates from a distance.

Of course, it appeared Quinn and Garrus couldn’t take their talons out of each other long enough to complete a fairly simple recon mission. Had Mavic not been wearing his helmet to keep out the dust, and there was a lot of it, he would have pinched the bridge of his nose until the urge to throttle the both of them went away but all he could do was tap his helmeted head on the ground a few times. He only succeeded in scrambling his vision a bit but it’d have to do.

“I’m only gonna say this once,” He told them, his subtones tight with agitation. “This tension between you two is going to get someone killed. I don’t care how you work it out but do it soon. Or I’m going to report both of your behaviors to Serranus. Got me?”

Garrus tilted his head in confusion for a moment, like he hadn’t realized just what he’d been saying seconds ago. Quinn was motionless though he could imagine her working her delicate mandibles in small rotations like she did when she was really frustrated but they both nodded to him.

“Now,” Mavic said, letting his harmonics descend into his favorite register, the one he used with his many lovers. “Say you’re sorry and I’ll call this good.”

They both muttered some unflattering things but he was just glad he’d gotten their venom aimed at someone other than each other.

“…Sorry.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry too.”

He nodded, satisfied at their willingness to put their stuff aside for the time being. “Now that that’s out of the way,” He said. “Let’s get closer.”

+_-_-_-_-_+  
Quinn closed her eyes and counted to fifty. Then she counted to a hundred for good measure until the blue that had invaded the edges of her vision had passed. _Spirits_ being part of Garrus’ team was not what she’d expected. The man was insufferable to the worst degree, obstinate and a bit of a bigot too which had been a complete surprise. For someone that considered themself a “free-thinker” he was awfully prone to stereotyping the other species he came across: humans were weak-willed, the quarians deserved everything that happened to them, the krogan were all brainless bloodthirsty killers who deserved to be sterilized... Ok, that last one _might_ have a small level of truth but that was beside the point. Garrus really wasn’t the man she’d assumed him to be and that pissed her off.

She got it, he was a Homeworlder. Palaven's radiation seemed to keep out new ideas as firmly as it did foreigners, it wasn't like on the colonies where you actually lived around aliens and got to know them. When they were raised like that all they had were the archaic stereotypes that had been shoved down their throats; it was ignorance not maliciousness. It was clear that he didn’t want to be a follower but it seemed like the only way he knew how to rebel was by questioning his commanders. Didn’t mean she liked it though.

What really pissed her off was that more often than not during their spats she had pictured throwing him to the floor and fucking him to make him shut his obnoxious mouth. _Obviously I have no self-respect or I’d have lost interest in him by now._ Mavic’s assessment that Garrus was a traditional homeworld turian was apparently more accurate than she would have liked to admit. Quinn had really wanted Garrus to not be a stereotype.

 _And Mavic, that little shit,_ She fumed and that blue started to creep in again. _”Now say you’re sorry”. Yeah, I’m sorry. Sorry I didn’t punch him in the mouth, talking to us like that. He may as well just said “fuck Garrus already Quinn, you know you want to”. Doesn’t help that he’s right, I do wanna fuck Garrus. If he wasn’t such an ignorant immature borderline racist rank-less varren cocksucker-_

“Got a visual yet, Vetus?” The object of her absolute frustration asked over the comm.

“Give me a damn second Vakarian,” She snarled. “Tactical cloak doesn’t mean invisible.”

“Such a shame that, if it did then I wouldn’t have to see your ugly-”

“I am serious about the ‘reporting both of you to Serranus’ thing guys. So shut the fuck up and you can tear chunks out of each other later on the ship.”

“Serranus put me in charge-“

“Then fucking act like it.” Mavic interrupted him, his harmonics dripping with venom. “Now get off the damn comms and let’s do our fucking job.”

Quinn honestly hadn’t known the promiscuous turian _could_ get pissed off so that let her know just how serious he was. He was right too; if she really wanted a piece of Garrus – and she did- she’d just challenge him to some sparring when they got back to the Havincaw. After she’d worked out a bit of her frustration on the pirates that is.

She’d climbed to a lower outcropping twenty feet from the lip of the cliff she’d been stretched out on with Garrus and Mavic. The latter was pretty lightly built for a full grown male turian but she was the only one agile enough to get down to the ledge without slipping and falling to her death. A deep breath and Quinn was finally able to focus on her aspect of the mission. With one eye a millimeter away from the scope and the other closed, she sighted down the length of her rifle to the bottom of the gorge. And cursed.

“What’s up Quinn?” Mavic asked, tones all business.

“We need to get back to the Havincaw ASAP.” She said, staring at the slaver base with its heavily fortified outer walls and the many turrets stationed at strategic places.

+_-_-_-_-_+  
  
Mavic had just walked into the gym when Quinn took a hit to the jaw that knocked her on her ass but at least she was taking his advice and getting rid of her anger at Garrus. Two minutes in and the fight that was supposed to be a friendly spar was already brutal. Garrus had a good foot and half of height on her and significantly longer arms but he couldn’t dodge and weave like she could. Mavic himself was only a handful of inches taller than Quinn and just as skinny but he knew he couldn’t move with that same sort of grace and agility that she did either.

He also knew that their fight wasn’t the result of the everyday tension that came from working in close quarters or the upcoming attack on the slaver base. Oh no, they were at each other’s throats because they both desperately wanted to throw the other down in different manner. Something Mavic was intimately familiar with, hell, sex was his favorite pass time. The signs were all there, it just seemed that he was the only one that could see them.

“Hey Mavic,” Crassus called. “You want in on the betting? I’ve got three-hundred credits on Garrus and five-hundred on Quinn for the win.”

He sidled up to his current boyfriend, leaning against the much larger man’s side to read the display of his omnitool. “Hmmm, put me down for a hundred credits that it ends in a draw.”

“Seriously babe?” He asked, completely incredulous.

“I’ll do you one more. Another fifty says they end up fucking by the end of tonight.”

Crassus shook his head and flicked his mandibles out in disbelief but he put the information in into his ‘tool anyway. “Speaking of fucking by the end of the night…”

Mavic chuckled and let his hand brush the other man’s waist. “You don’t even have to ask.”   


+_-_-_-_-_+   
Quinn ducked under the strike Garrus threw at her head and came back up with her knee raised, slamming it into his stomach. When he doubled over she clocked him under the jaw and she felt his mouth clack shut. He spun with the motion though and dipped low, trying to sweep her feet out from under her. She jumped over his leg but Garrus had counted on that and his spin took him a full three-sixty, his other foot striking her in the side.

 _Damn,_ She thought, hopping as far back as she could to get out of range from his longer arms and legs. She’d already figured out she would have to use her speed to her advantage if she had any hope of coming out of their fight the victor. _But he’s good at this. Can’t let him know that though._

“You’d better not be going easy on me because I’m a girl, Vakarian.” She taunted. “Because that would just piss me off.”  
  
+_-_-_-_-_+   
Garrus kept close, his stance off just a bit because Vetus was so much shorter than him that he had to lower his center and it left him at a serious disadvantage. It really wasn’t fair that she was so much faster too. It was pretty difficult to avoid those lightning fast punches and kicks but he’d managed to about as often as she managed to land a hit on him. He had to give it to her; she was determined to put him on the ground.

 _And maybe kick me while I’m down there,_ He smirked. _I know I would._

After they’d come back to the Havincaw and reported their findings to the Captain, the issue between them had hit the boiling point. More like it boiled over and scalded everyone in its path. Mavic had looked ready to yank off someone’s mandibles and it was hard telling who his target would be. That was about the time Vetus had turned to him and declared in a reasonable tone that they needed to work off their fury in as safe a way as they could.

Garrus had agreed readily. In all truth he’d been fantasying about challenging her for the last several weeks…. When he wasn’t fantasying about pinning her to a wall and-

_That’s not a thought for right now._

+_-_-_-_-_+   
Mavic winced as Garrus took a hard crack to a mandible that made him stagger. Five rounds- five unbelievably brutal and exhausting to watch rounds- had gone by with each of them frankly beating the shit out of each other. He couldn’t believe the ref hadn’t called an end to the thing; of course that was before Crassus had shared with him just how much money the man had on Quinn. She was the current crowd favorite, so fast that Garrus was having a hard time getting in a decent strike.

“Damn,” Crassus hissed and Mavic felt it through his back where the larger man stood behind him. “You see that?”

Quinn had sent an elbow into Garrus’ waist that had him falling to one of his knees but when she moved to follow it up with a punch to his temple, he’d hooked her ankle with a calf spur and sent her sprawling. The look she gave Garrus was positively murderous.

“Ouch,” Mavic agreed.

“You can’t possibly believe that they’ll end up together, even for a night. Those two hate each other.”

He shifted in a way that had Crassus sucking in a breath. “So did we.”   
  
+_-_-_-_-_+   
Spirits but he was getting tired. And sore, so very sore. Vetus had a knack for hitting the same place _several_ times in a row with increasing force. Garrus was sure his ribs were on the way to being broken or at the very least badly bruised. She wasn’t fairing much better than he was; breathing heavily and letting her guard drop just a little bit. It was barely perceptible but it was there.

“Getting tired Vetus?”

“Nope.” She said and aimed a punch at his throat which he easily blocked. “How about you, Vakarian? You’re looking a little winded.”

“Naw,” He threw his own punch with the same end result. “I’m good.”

 _I’m almost dead on my feet._  
  
+_-_-_-_-_+   
_How much longer can he fucking go?_ Quinn wondered with a reigniting of anger that spiked her adrenaline. _I’m so tired and my hands are starting to hurt. I’ve got no idea how long we’ve been at this but I don’t think I can go much longer…Fuck I won’t let him beat me._

She renewed her efforts, bobbing and weaving to keep him guessing what side she was going to attack from. Garrus looked just as tired as he felt, his eyes heavy-lidded and the height of his fists lowering away from his face to about mid-chest. But he countered her every move and they were more evenly matched than she would have thought.

_But that’s with anger and resentment fueling us. Otherwise….I think he’d have me beat._

+_-_-_-_-_+

 _Ow. Just….ow._ Garrus groaned, shuffling down the hall like a zombie. A draw. He could not fucking believe it; a Spirits-damned draw. He wondered if he should feel ashamed. He groaned again. _Mostly I just hurt. A lot._

There was a rush of running feet and then he heard Vetus yell to him. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?!”

 _To die in my bed…_ He thought dryly and kept walking (ahem, shambling) down the hall. “It was a draw Vetus. As far as I’m concerned whatever issues you think there are between us are settled. Excuse me but I’d like to have a shower.”

Her hand closed over his shoulder and she yanked him closer to her level. “You’re a fucking idiot!” Vetus pulled so hard on his shoulder that his balance was momentarily skewered but before he could do anything about that, she had slammed her mouth against his.

 _What the…_ He couldn’t push her away and it took a second to realize that he didn’t want to. Then it just ended and Vetus stared up at him with wide dark blue eyes.

“ _That’s_ what this is about?!” Garrus exclaimed, his voice and tones going high with the shock of it all. “That’s why you’ve been at my throat for weeks? Why didn’t you just say something?”  


+_-_-_-_-_+

Quinn chased him down, unwilling to let him get away from her again, not before she’d had her say. Spirits she wasn’t even mad at him any more, not in the least. Not after the last round of their fight when he’d held her trapped against his chest. While she’d had his leg in a lock that would’ve dislocated his knee if he tried to break it and the ref had named them evenly matched and called an end to the fight. It had taken a moment to separate their bodies and in that moment she became aware of the smell of him, of his strength and determination, the firmness of plates and muscle against her back. She was done dancing around the issue; she wanted him.

Jerking Garrus down to her height and kissing him had been her last resort but she was out of ideas and things to say to get her point across. He froze in her hands, his own unmoving down by his sides before she let him go and stepped back, looking up at him searchingly.

He stared at her, blinking his pale blue eyes rapidly as if trying to process. “ _That’s_ what this is about?! That’s why you’ve been at my throat for weeks? Why didn’t you just say something?”

“Spirits you’re an idiot Garrus,” She said again, reaching out to grab one of his hands. “I’ve done everything but say _let’s fuck_.”

“Yeah,” He chuckled. “I don’t think that approach works for anyone but Virim.”

She smiled at him. “Probably not,” She agreed. “He told me not to even try it with you.”

Garrus hummed. “I would’ve just laughed and- wait. You…want to have sex with me?”

“Yes.” She didn’t know what she’d do if he turned her down; she had just spent the last hour beating the shit out of him. “Do you want to?”

He stood a little straighter and sort of half shrugged. “Yeah I want to, definitely. Just…Vetus-“

“Quinn, you can call me Quinn.”

“Right, look the things I said when we were fighting, and I don’t mean just in the ring, I didn’t mean any of it.”

“I didn’t mean anything I said either, well, not everything. I still think you’re too uptight.”

Garrus just shrugged. “Yeah. So…” He squeezed her hand and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles absently.

Quinn smirked at him and pulled him down for another, slower kiss. “Follow me lover-boy.”

+_-_-_-_-_+

“Lot of unhappy people back there,” Crassus said idly, following behind Mavic so that he could watch the swing of his hips. “How in the hell did you even know?”

“I’ve spent the last six weeks stuck with them. Honestly I’m surprised it took this long for them to finally throw down.”

“Well,” He said, reaching out to wrap his arm around the shorter man’s waist and pull him into his side. “I’ll take consolation in the fact that you didn’t net fifty credits from me.”

Mavic laughed lowly and pulled him to a stop at the mouth of a hallway. “Oh you poor soul.”

“Huh?”

“Look down the hall babe.”

He did and his mandibles fell open in utter shock. There was Garrus with his arms around Quinn and their mouths locked together in what was obviously a passionate kiss. Crassus stared until they’d pulled away from each other and continued on their way hand in hand. Mavic fitted his hand under his chin and closed his mouth for him, laughing.

“You owe me fifty credits.”

“H-how? _How?!_ ” Crassus sputtered. “Oh you son of a- fine. Fine. At least tell me you’re going to share your winnings with me? You know, to lessen the sting of absolute defeat.”

The shorter man nodded. “I thought I’d take you somewhere nice on our next leave.”

“Thanks Mavic, I’d like that.”

“I know what else you’ll like. Come on then.”  
  
+_-_-_-_-_+

Undressed and on her back with an equally naked Garrus kneeling between her knees, Quinn smiled reassuringly. “Don’t take this the wrong way but have you…done this before?”

He skimmed his hands along the unprotected skin of her waist, his touch feather-light. “There was a girl that lived next door to us, older than me by a few years, one time when she was one leave we-“ Garrus glanced at her. “And never mind. Yes, I’ve done this before.”

“Then why are you…?”

“I _really_ don’t think you’re ugly.” He said. “I just wanted you to know that before we went any further.”

Quinn pulled him down over her and slid one of her legs over his to keep him in place. “About going further…”  
  
+_-_-_-_-_+

Garrus had had sex before but those few times with Phera had just been two friends discovering their bodies and their capacity for pleasure together. It had been fun, but not like this thing with Quinn. She opened under his hands, pelvic plating parting slowly and giving off an intense heat as he slipped his fingers into her tight passage, felt her squeeze around him. With his thumb, Garrus caressed that sweet spot of nerves above her entrance in slow circles and she clenched hard around his fingers, a sharp moan tearing from her throat.

“Garrus,” Quinn murmured and her subtones sent a shiver of delight up his spine. “Don’t play around.”

“I’m not,” He assured, working his fingers in and out of her, circling faster with his thumb.

She shuddered and wrapped her hands around the back of his neck as her legs fell open invitingly. “I want you.”

“Let me do this first,” He wanted to bring Quinn as much pleasure as he could to make up for the last several weeks and the fight they’d had over an hour ago.

To be honest, Garrus was getting off on making her squirm and arch with just his hand alone. She was squeezing around him and he could just imagine how wonderful it was going to feel to be buried deeply inside her. His own pelvic plates sprang open and he was hard in an instant and suddenly he was just as desperate to get inside her as she was to have him there.

 _But I’m going to make her cum before I take her,_ He thought with no lack of smugness.

“Garrus,” She said again and grew impossibly tight around his fingers.

 _Spirits she feels so good. I don’t want to wait anymore._ “Quinn…?”

Two small mandibles flared out in a grin. “You’re not seriously going to make me ask for it, are you?”

He chuckled and slipped his fingers free after one last swipe of his thumb that made her moan. “That was good enough for me.” He said and gripped her hips with one hand, wrapping the other around the base of his shaft. “How do you want me to-?”

“Spirits, do you need a written invitation? Just fuck me already.”

Garrus eased forward and parted her folds with the head of his cock before pulling back. “That an order?”

Quinn wound her legs around the back of his and locked their spurs together at the same moment she grabbed his ass and pulled him down into her. They both gasped at the force of the intrusion but she didn’t give him time to shake off the surprise, her body tightening around him in an instinctive response that tore a harsh growl from him. He fell right into an easy rhythm that she matched stroke for stroke, her hands still holding to his backside to control the power behind his thrusts. It was heady, Quinn’s fiery passion meeting and surpassing his. He was having more fun than he’d ever had before, all at the hands of the woman that had tried to beat the shit out of him a short time ago.

_And nearly succeeded._

Quinn threw him to the side and kept pushing until Garrus was on his back under her. She took the moment to kiss him to near senselessness before straddling his hips and taking him fully into her. Garrus wrapped his hands around her waist and guided her motions until her felt her walls spams around him. Quinn was close and he wanted her to get off before him, wanted to follow her over that edge into mind-numbing bliss. He laid his hand over the top of her spread plating and rubbed at her clit in time with his thrusts.

In moments he felt her reach her peak in the way internal muscles rippled and squeezed around his shaft with increasing intensity. Quinn moaned his name and shivered in the aftermath of her own release. Garrus gripped her hips and pulled her down at the same time he bucked up with all his strength. He forced himself as deeply inside her as he could and came hard, filling her in a rush of liquid heat. When Quinn collapsed across his chest, he tucked her head under his chin and rolled them to the side to get more comfortable. Garrus didn’t think he’d ever been more satisfied or exhausted. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to go again, his cock twitching eagerly with that desire.

Quinn nipped the side of his neck. “We should’ve done that the first chance we got.” She muttered into his skin.

He rumbled in agreement. “I have to admit to enjoying the anticipation though.”

“It was fun.” She nipped him a little harder and traced a pattern on his hip bone before sliding her hand down to where they were still connected. “Want to have some more fun?”

Garrus rolled on top of her, pulling her legs around his waist. “Definitely.”

 

End.


End file.
